diy label that puts out
#dreampop #lofipop #indierock

CASSETTE CLUB Monthly Tapes
https://spiritgoth.com/pages/cassette-club

I have no idea what I'm doing, or why I'm doing it.

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Slumberland began operations in 1989 as a collective effort consisting of members of DC area bands Velocity Girl, Big Jesus Trash Can/Whorl, Black Tambourine and Powderburns. We were inspired by such musical happenings as C86, early Creation, Postcard, K, Bus Stop, lower East Side noise, and also the renegade art aesthetics & methods of people like Cage, Burroughs and Duchamp. The explosion of punk had left behind a thriving network of 'zines, labels and distributors and we felt that there was room for our noise-loving, pop-obsessed aesthetic. While there were loads of US indie labels releasing a steady stream of 7"s, there wasn't much pop going on. Notable exceptions included Bus Stop, K and Picture Book, and we hoped to join that group and help chisel out some space for melodies amongst the noise.

Early releases from Velocity Girl, Whorl and Black Tambourine struck a note, and we found like-minded popsters getting in touch from all over the world. As we expanded the label roster and our own horizons, the goal was always to share great songs and interesting sounds from a range of styles. Our first burst of activity through the 1990s and early 2000s brought seminal records by legendary bands like Stereolab, Rocketship, The Ropers, Lorelei, The Aislers Set, Hood and Boyracer.

By the mid 2000s we were seeing a resurgence of interest in guitar pop and the start of the ongoing vinyl revival: the perfect environment for Slumberland! We launched into our latest phase of activity with as string of classic releases from The Pains of Being Pure At Heart, Crystal Stilts, Frankie Rose, Veronica Falls, Allo Darlin', Joanna Gruesome and so many more.

2025 is our thirty-sixth (!) year we are still at it, ploughing our own furrow and bringing you unique, genre-defining (and genre-defying!) releases from bands like The Laughing Chimes, Humdrum, The Cords, Autocamper, Jeanines, The Umbrellas, Neutrals, Artsick, Kids On A Crime Spree, Papercuts, Lightheaded, Tony Jay, Chime School, Lunchbox and many, many more. Indie fashions come and go but we're still thrilled by great songs and the new ways that pop can be rejuvenated to fit the times.

K: a conspiracy of gravediggers, spies, swim instructors and international pop stars. There are hangmen and there are saints. K as a label has released cassettes, phonograph records and compact discs documenting the audio works of over 150 artists. The main focus K of has been artists working in and around Olympia, Washington, where K is based, but has included comrades from across the U.S.A. and as far away as Japan, Scotland, Australia, Canada, Germany and England. Yes, k explodes the teenage underground into passionate revolt against the corporate ogre world-wide.

Colleagues in the International Pop Underground collide at the K vanishing point. The sounds cross back and forth through a number of genres, some known and some less so: punk, hip hop, atom-powered folk-pop, haunted garage, restless singer-songwriter, epic soul shock, noise expirements, blurred-eye visionary psychedelia, roadhouse mod and the silent film soundtracks composed by Timothy Brock, as performed by the Olympia Chamber Orchestra.

In describing K to a friend, you might say: Hit the streets to the motorbike beat of the cranked and crush crashpop. Raise the standard and hail: a revolution come and gone behind your eyes. Blood and sand and sidewalk. Radio blast the punk pop implosion that is the new breed: a bee in your bonnet, love in a goldfish bowl, zombie rockin behind the iron curtain. Hey, love rocker, pull on your slacks and Mexican army boots, get ready for some sonic pogo action. Jazz the glass, here they come, screaming and clawing, scooters and dune buggies roaring. Bless. Can you dig it? K Collaborators. King loser and teenage underground. Screech and saw. Buzz. Cut. Spin. Slice. Crush. Squirt. Sweaty basement rock and rule. A crown of barbed wire for your hooded throne. Lose it on the ball and chain.

Hey, gravedigger: ignite. 

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